Practitioner
by stanley T
Summary: He may be little cleverer now, learned a few new tricks and punched some deserving faces, but a call from an old friend forces him into finding a woman he hasn't seen in years. First rule to finding old friends and saving the day? Try not to get eaten.


"The land, the sky, the sea. The land, the sky, the sea. The land, the sky, the sea..."

The Practitioner knew nothing of spirituality or meditation, but he knew he'd need to clear his mind for this undertaking. His chant was nothing special nor did it have any significant metaphysical meaning. He suspected magicians would tell him to use lots of Latin. He didn't know any Latin. He just knew about the beasts that creeped and crawled the earth, and how seeing them calmed him.

It was a foolish thing this Practitioner was attempting. Failure here could mean anything from near-death exhaustion to his body getting incinerated and eaten by Infernal monsters. The capital I was entirely intentional. He was putting himself of danger of being eaten by, quite literally, beings from Hell. Would anyone be able to stop them? No- he was a long, long way from home, far away from anyone who might be able to help. Would anyone be able to hear his screams if they came through? No- his summoning demanded he surround himself with nature, and he knew of no place better than the millions of acres of forest at an Alaskan wildlife preserve for that. He could scream for days and no one would be around for miles to hear him. There was a morbid joke in there somewhere. The question that worried him the most though, that chilled his very bones was even if his summoning was successful, would it even help? Would his two-year mission reach it's high point with another failure?

Would it stop him from trying? Hell no.

He repeated his chant as he walked around the ritual circle he'd prepared. Some would look at his work and call it Pagan. Witchcraft. Unholy, even. Again, he didn't know anything about such things. It was a blind shot in the dark, borne from the mission he'd been on for the last two years. After two years of sniffing, hunting, tracking, and sneaking he still had not found what he was searching for. Even with the aid of the collective instincts of the animal kingdom, the genetic memory of the greatest hunters to have ever roamed the Earth whispering in his ear, he was still starved for results.

Personally, he thought the circle he'd created was horribly cliched. The circle was made from a collection of smooth stones he'd picked up from a nearby riverbed, carefully arranged to make as perfect a circle as possible. He thought an oval would have been more in touch with nature considering the Earth went around the Sun in an elliptical orbit. Eggs, the first form of new life, were usually oval, and a circle seemed too symmetrical when all of life was based on flaws and imperfections. An oval would have made more sense to him, but summoning apparently demanded a circle. So a circle was made.

There were five points on his circle, from the even more cliched Wiccan pentagram he had formed in the circle with twigs. At each point on his circle was a representation of the elements: fire, water, earth, air, and spirit. For fire, he had a small plasma torch, about the size of a regular lighter. A high-tech gift from an old friend with plenty of sentimental value. He didn't know if that mattered or not. For water, he used a chunk of frozen ice he'd chipped off from a glacier. Birdarangs weren't normally used as such crude tools, but he suspected that guy would understand. For earth, a piece of hard granite that used to be part of an old statue, shaped by the bravery of a girl he'd once loved. For air, there was a bit of purple cloth, wind-whipped by joyful flight. Lastly, for spirit, he had a picture of a beautiful woman with pale skin and soft purple hair.

"The land, the sky, the sea. The land, the sky, the sea. The land, the sky, the sea..." His chant continued.

While lacking the usual sensitivities to feel the changes of spiritual power around him, slight clues were manifesting. The hair on the back of his neck was rising. The forest had gone unusually quiet, save for the howls of wolves off in the distance. The clouds in the sky had nearly disappeared, allowing all of the light of the full moon to pour upon the Practitioner and his unholy science project.

Everything was ready. Though he couldn't feel it, mystical energies from the forest were gathering around him, waiting for an outlet, a direction for it to be unleashed upon. All that was left was for some stupid fucker to channel that energy. He looked down at his hands, perhaps seeing them for the last time with flesh attached to the bone. But then he looked down at his circle, and was reminded why he had to do this. His will resolved. His hands formed into fists.

"One stupid fucker, comin' up..." He muttered.

His arms spread wide, his head skyward, he screamed with the full force of every living creature in this cold, dark forest.

"_**WITCH OF TWO WORLDS, I SEEK YOU OUT!"**_

Wind and sunset-colored lightning began whipping at him at torrential speeds.

He did not stop.

"_**DAUGHTER OF THE DESTROYER, I BID YOU COME FORTH!"**_

Reality itself began screaming with him, as it warped and tore just above his circle.

He did not stop.

"_**RAVEN OF AZEROTH! HEAR MY PLEA!"**_

He heard hissing. Hungry beasts from the other side. Daring him to continue, to say the last part, finish his summoning so he might be devoured by mouths that _consumed worlds._

… He would not stop.

"_**I, GARFIELD LOGAN OF EARTH, SUMMON YOU!"**_

He heard a faint whimper. Then, his hole in dimensions exploded.

Garfield would wake up many hours later, his body aching from exhaustion and wounds he couldn't even begin to understand. There was a slight pleasure, though. A point of warmth at the top of his head. His eyes opened to see his green hair being gently stroked by a woman who looked like she wanted to punch him in the face.

"You summoned me." She stated.

His face hurt, but damn if he didn't smile anyway. "That's right, gorgeous." He said tiredly. Her beautiful purple eyes softened considerably. "You're lucky I got to you before they did." She said quietly. He tried to laugh, but it sounded something between a wheeze and a cough. "Yeah I am. Seemed like every nasty thing over there wanted some char-broiled Beast Boy." He said. Her eyebrow perked slightly, a tic unnoticed by most, but a clear sign to him that she was amused. "You still go by that?" She asked. "Nah. But it seemed fitting considering Dick wants the old team together for something big." He explained. A bit of coldness seeped into her voice, "Big enough to risk your life getting me back from the other side?" His smile grew fractionally wider, enough to reveal some of his sharp teeth. "Who said I didn't just want to see you again, doll?" He asked. Her eyebrow perked again.

"Idiot." She muttered.

"Tomorrow, we'll head west to Silver Springs. From there we can hitch a ride to Anchorage. We should be able to get wherever we need to go from there." He said. She nearly broke into a full-blown smirk. Here he was, still laying on his back, exhausted from bringing someone across space and time, and he still had the energy to make a plan. Even two years apart just would not change some things...

"Have it all planned out, do you? What if I liked where I was?" She asked lightly, trying to rile him like she had before. "Impossible. You'd miss me too much." He retorted. Before she could return with another quip, a green hand reached up behind her head and brought her down so he could kiss her with everything he had left.

Her eyes briefly widened in surprise, then let herself kiss him back as his emotions washed over her along with her memories them together like this, many years ago.

It seemed like a lot of things had changed while she was gone.

However, some things just would _not_ change.


End file.
